Kirishima

A knock echoed through the garage just as Kirishima was pressing one last piece of tape in place on a box covered in shiny black wrapping paper. He scrambled to his feet and trotted over to the door to lift it open just enough for Bakugou to duck underneath it in the midst of pulling his shiny black helmet from his head.

With his classic, ear-to-ear grin, Kirishima stepped toward him as he set the helmet down. "Hey babe," he murmured before gently taking Bakugou by the jaw and kissing him softly.

But it was clear just one peck of the lips wasn't enough for Bakugou because, just as Kirishima was starting to step back again, his hands seized him by the waist and tugged him back, mumbling, "Fuck, c'mere."

Kirishima's chuckle was swallowed up by Bakugou's mouth, rough and almost demanding against his. Too easy it was to let himself melt right into Bakugou, arms around his neck and hands weaving themselves in his helmet-tousled hair.

Kissing Bakugou always left his skin tingling with delight, but this time it felt even more electric as, for once, Bakugou managed to take the lead. His hands, steady and firm, coaxed Kirishima back against the garage door, earning a small, accidental squeak of surprise in the process. It really was rare when Bakugou was feeling so... affectionate like this, for lack of a better way of describing it, so Kirishima let himself savor the moment for a while. After all, kissing his boyfriend was one of his favorite ways to spend his time.

But eventually it had to come to an end because he was way too excited about the present he'd just wrapped to put it off any longer. With a certain amount of stealth, he pulled his mouth from Bakugou's and ducked under his arm, quickly sidestepping around his boyfriend with a smug grin.

"Hey, get back here," Bakugou grumbled, following him and reaching out for his arm. "I wasn't done."

"Hey, hey," Kirishima laughed, letting Bakugou take hold of his forearm but then sliding it through to take his hand instead. "Trust me, I'd love to sit and make out with you all evening, but I have something for you first."

Immediately the other's eyes narrowed, and it was then he saw the big box wrapped in black waiting patiently to be opened on Kirishima's workbench. Never losing his grin of excitement, Kirishima tugged him toward it and only released his hand to lift it and hold it out toward the other.

"Happy six months," he said proudly.

"...hmph," grunted Bakugou. "You know I don't like surprises."

"I know you pretend not to like 'em," Kirishima countered knowingly.

But Bakugou already wasn't really paying attention. He'd hopped up onto one of the stools, set the box back on the workbench, and was peeling up one of the pieces of tape before Kirishima had even finished the sentence.

"What the fuck even is this, anyway? It's heavy. And huge," he mumbled as he worked on ripping at the paper without relent.

Kirishima didn't bother to answer him, of course, and observed with elation as Bakugou tore the paper away to reveal the cardboard box he'd put the actual present in. It took the other no time at all to tear the tape off the top and lift the flaps to reveal what was inside, and as soon as he saw it and realized what it was, Kirishima just knew. Bakugou's eyes widened in borderline shock, his lips even popping open just slightly before he tilted the box and reached into it to retrieve the item.

Kirishima's stomach was filled with butterflies, butterflies, and more butterflies as he watched his boyfriend study the brand new, shiny, freshly painted (but dry, of course) motorcycle helmet.

"Holy shit," Bakugou breathed out, twisting and turning the helmet to see it from all angles. His eyes never left the fiery designs of the roses decorating the back and top of the helmet, vibrant and bright against the original black. There were three in total, the biggest sitting at the crown of the helmet and serving as the focal point. The petals of the roses were made up of flames—reds, oranges, yellows, even some blues and whites. The others matched with varying sizes and shapes, all of their stems tangling together toward the base of the helmet at the back. Other flames—flares, Kirishima liked to call them—swirled away from the roses and filled in the rest of the blank space, framing the front of the helmet where the glass face plate was.

Kirishima was practically giddy as he watched Bakugou drink in the designs he'd painted himself and took two weeks to work on, effectively putting his commissions on hold for the time being. It was worth it—more than worth it—because of the satisfying expression of awe in Bakugou's eyes.

"You did this whole thing yourself, didn't you?" Bakugou asked once he finally managed to tear his eyes away from the helmet.

"Of course," Kirishima said with a satisfied grin. "I guess you like it, huh?"

"You're more of a fucking moron than I thought if you thought I wouldn't," Bakugou scoffed. "How much did this damn helmet cost you, anyway?"

"Don't worry about it, babe."

"That shit isn't cheap, Ei."

"Your point?" Kirishima's grin only widened. "Really, it's not a big deal so don't worry about it, alright?"

The flexing of Bakugou's jaw told Kirishima he was slightly irritated by it, and Kirishima was certain it was because Bakugou would never want him to spend his hard-earned money on him. Kirishima had gone into the gift idea knowing that full well anyway, and again, it was more than worth it, especially knowing Bakugou had better protection than the helmet he bought with the bike and the fact that he'd be wearing Kirishima's art whenever he was on it. (And though Kirishima wouldn't in a thousand years admit it, but it felt almost like marking his territory; that was his art and his boyfriend. No questions.)

"Fine, but now I feel like shit because I didn't get you some fancy ass thing," Bakugou grumbled.

Kirishima was dismissively waving his hand before Bakugou had finished the sentence. "You don't have to get me anything. I did this 'cause I wanted to, not because I expect you to get me something in return."

"But isn't that how relationships are s'posed to work? We're supposed to be even."

"And we are, 'cause you're here and you're my boyfriend, and I get to spend time with you on our six month anniversary. That's all I want. I don't need stuff to be happy."

Bakugou didn't even attempt to be subtle about his eyeroll. "Whatever, but don't think I didn't have a plan for today," he mumbled.

Kirishima perked up at that, his curiosity piqued instantly. He figured they'd just be spending the day like normal, playing video games or binge watching some show. Maybe making dinner together or getting something delivered. Spending hours talking. Probably some... relatively heavy making out that would probably lead to at least partial nudity, or somewhere along those lines. They'd avoid the whole "telling Bakugou's parents about their relationship" subject because it was a special occasion, and Bakugou had already made it clear in not so many words that it was something he wanted to put to the back of his mind for that day. They'd eventually fall asleep together, cuddling up regardless of how hot it might've been.

But it was clear Bakugou had more in mind than their usual. "Oh?" Kirishima asked.

With his new helmet tucked under his arm, Bakugou reached for the other that'd recently tousled his hair when he pulled it off. "Put this on," he said, holding it out to Kirishima.

Immediately Kirishima's heart jumped and he had to swallow kind of hard around the uneasiness rising in his throat. "...I'm not sure how well my hair's gonna fit into that," Kirishima told him with a quiet laugh.

"It's not, but it'll be fine."

Kirishima couldn't argue with that. He had been dying to take a ride with Bakugou since the second he saw him pull up on his bike just a couple of weeks ago. Up until then they hadn't really had the time or energy to do it, and though it was something he'd been anticipating, Kirishima was suddenly not so sure.

"...are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure, idiot. No fucking way you're riding without a helmet."

There was another beat of hesitation before Kirishima tentatively took the helmet with both hands. "So what if I hadn't gotten you a new helmet? What would we have done?"

"Same thing."

"You'd have gone without one?"

"Obviously."

"Katsuki—"

"Shut up. I know 's risky and all that but I'm not about to let you ride unprotected. Speaking of, get a jacket or somethin'. To protect your arms, just in case or whatever..." Bakugou fumbled a bit with the adjustment straps on the inside of his new helmet as he spoke, evidently avoiding Kirishima's eyes.

Warmth blossomed from Kirishima's center, chasing away any uneasiness that had begin to build.

"Alright. Be right back," he said.

It only took a second to grab a jacket from the coat closet inside. Weird as it felt to be putting a jacket on in the middle of summer, he was almost giddy as he joined Bakugou back in the garage.

"'M not planning on crashing or anything," Bakugou said as they ducked back out under the garage door where Bakugou's bike, big and black and sleek, sat in the driveway held up by its kickstand.. "But other people are idiots and if you got hurt—"

"I get it, Katsuki," Kirishima told him warmly, interrupting only to spare Bakugou the cheesy speech. "Thank you."

"...whatever. Here."

Once again Kirishima was handed the helmet, and with his stiff hair he needed help stuffing the thing on his head. He could just feel the gel breaking loose and internally cringed at intentionally ruining an hour's worth of work from that morning, especially because it had been the last of that particular bottle of gel and he had yet to pick up more. Still, it was soon forgotten when, after helping him adjust the thing, Bakugou was placing his new helmet over his head. It was a perfect fit, it seemed, and... wow, the fiery roses looked good on him!

"I knew that would suit you," Kirishima said with a grin, already tugging his phone from his pocket to snap a few pictures. "It was between that and a red skull, but I'm glad I did the roses."

"Fuckin' show me," Bakugou mumbled, turning around and letting his boyfriend take a few pictures. There was the smallest hint of a smirk on Bakugou's face when Kirishima held the phone out to show him, too, which made his chest fill with pride.

They took some photos together, too, of course. Kirishima held his smile and a peace sign while Bakugou—classic Bakugou—lifted his middle finger and stuck out his tongue. By the time they were done, Kirishima definitely had some Insta-worthy pictures.

"So listen," Bakugou said, "handles are here for you, but you can hold onto me if you want. Your feet go here," he explained, gesturing. "And when we turn, turn with the bike, not against it like you do in a car. Got it?"

"Yup," Kirishima said, pocketing his phone again. "Where are we going, anyway?"

Bakugou pretended not to hear him as he pulled out his keys. "You gotta get on first."

Kirishima did his best to mask his anxiousness as he stepped up and swung a leg over before scooting back onto the passenger's seat. The bike felt steady enough under him and didn't need any help staying upright beneath his weight, what with the kickstand. Bakugou followed his lead swiftly and, in Kirishima's opinion, much more gracefully than he'd done. His foot lifted the bike from its kickstand before it kicked the thing up, leaving their balance completely up to Bakugou's legs.

"You good?" Bakugou asked, half-shouting through his helmet.

"Yup," Kirishima said with a thumbs up. No way was he backing out now, even with the butterflies ravaging in his stomach. At this point, with Bakugou right in front of him, settled between his knees and steadying the bike, he felt more secure than he'd expected. He was as ready as he could get.

And then suddenly, causing his heart to jump all the way up into his throat, the bike fired to life and growled beneath him, sending a thrill of nerves straight up his spine. The sound of the engine ripped through air as Bakugou revved it, and instinctively Kirishima's hands grasped onto his waist. He thought he heard him chuckle, but it was almost impossible to tell over the noise of the bike and the fact that the helmet was covering his ears.

The bike rolled down the driveway, and then, seemingly before Kirishima could process it, they were practically flying down the street. Now, Kirishima didn't drive himself, but even he knew Bakugou was doing way more than the speed limit to the end of the street and, in a slight panic, his arms encircled Bakugou's waist for something steady to hold onto. This time he was sure Bakugou laughed; he could feel the rumble in his back against his chest.

Damn him, Kirishima thought giddily. Even he had a smile on his face.

Fortunately, Bakugou wasn't too insane when it came to speed the rest of the way to... wherever it was they were going. He was headed straight for the highway, and Kirishima realized this just when his nerves were calming down. Of course.

It wasn't hard at all to see why Bakugou had been so adamant about taking bike classes and getting his own to ride, though. It felt like flying—or at least, as close as one could get to flying while still connected to the ground. The warm summer air felt freeing as it washed over them both, even if Kirishima couldn't exactly feel it against his skin because of the clothes and the helmet. It was easy to zone out watching the road go by, to get lost gawking at their surroundings as they flew past. The highway only enhanced the feeling, too, and before long every anxious thought Kirishima'd had before getting on that bike was forgotten, left miles behind them.

Bakugou was steady. He had full control. He knew exactly what he was doing to the point where it was hard to believe he'd only been doing this for a few weeks. The reds and oranges painted on his helmet glinted and shined in the sun, and for the entire ride Kirishima didn't lose his smile.

⚜️

They'd gone past the boundaries of where Kirishima recognized by the time Bakugou finally swung into a parking lot, parked, and killed the engine. After having the rumbling of it beneath him for what was probably a good forty-five minutes, Kirishima's ass tingled when it finally stopped, but even that had him grinning.

"Where are we?" he asked, following Bakugou's lead in hopping off.

"The store, obviously," Bakugou told him, lifting his helmet off.

"Right, but why'd we come so far?"

"You'll find out. C'mon."

A bit skeptical, Kirishima did follow Bakugou's lead into the grocery store. Bakugou had him pick out a few snacks—non-perishables and things that didn't necessarily need to be cooked. It was next to impossible to refrain from asking what it was all for as they went through the checkout line and back out to the bike. All of the groceries just fit in the little container behind the seat of the bike, and then they were off again.

By then dusk was settling in; the sun was hovering just above where the sky met the ground. Bakugou didn't turn back the way they came; instead, he continued on in the direction they'd been headed in.

While Kirishima was all too curious as to where the hell they were going and just what Bakugou had planned, there wasn't a thing he could do but sit back and enjoy the ride. They continued to eat up the highway as the sun continued to descend, and despite the fact that in the end they were on the road for nearly an hour and a half, Kirishima thought he'd never get tired of flying through the city, under the lights, cutting through the warm evening air on the back of Bakugou's bike.

When they finally did make it to... wherever it was they were going, Kirishima was even more confused. All it seemed to be was a rundown, sandy parking lot with only a couple of other vehicles in the middle of some trees. They'd been out of the city for a good twenty minutes, leaving the stars that were fading into view more visible than normal and the air smelling cleaner, but stopping at some random parking lot made no sense.

"Where are we?" Kirishima asked, same as before, just after he got off the bike.

"Just shut up and follow me, Dumb Hair," Bakugou mumbled as he took Kirishima by the hand, the other occupied with their food from the store. That alone had Kirishima complying; Bakugou was rarely the one to initiate any form of physical contact unless they were alone at his house or something, seeing as he wasn't really a fan of PDA save for a few pecks and hugs here and there when they said goodbye.

Bakugou led him right into the treeline and onto a narrow pathway made of sand. It was so narrow, in fact, that they had to bat a few branches and vines out of their way as they weaved their way through it.

Kirishima... definitely wasn't expecting what was on the other side. Only a few feet ahead of them—literally—was a beach. It stretched left and right as far as Kirishima could see, glowing a soft yellow, almost white, in the very last rays of sun managing to peek over the horizon. The ocean was calm, lapping gently and rhythmically against the sand, in an almost lazy motion.

"Whoa," Kirishima mumbled stupidly.

"Get it now?" Bakugou asked, still leading him out toward the sand.

"Mhm," Kirishima hummed happily. A beach date. A beach date. It was sweet and thoughtful and holy shit, Bakugou knew him well. "How did you know about this?"

"Came here when I was a kid sometimes," Bakugou said with a shrug. "Pick a spot to sit."

When they got settled in, sitting on their jackets in the sand, they dug into the food and fell into their usual talking banter—about work, about their families, about their friends, amongst other random subjects they flowed into. Purposefully, Kirishima avoided the subject of Bakugou's parents and going to school. It was their anniversary and he didn't want to sour the mood by bringing up something he knew the other didn't like to talk about on a normal day.

Once most of the food was gone and the sun was all the way down, the sliver of the moon hanging somewhere on the other side of the trees and the stars cluttered up in the atmosphere, Bakugou said, "Lay down with me."

"Huh?" Kirishima mumbled.

Bakugou, in typical Bakugou fashion, didn't give an answer and did as he said. He shook out his jacket before moving it so he could lie down on it, folding his arms behind his head. With a shrug, Kirishima followed his lead, laying as close to the other as he could get without completely overlapping him.

It was quiet for a while, save for the washing up of the water and an owl nearby. Despite the other cars back in the parking lot there was nobody else in view, so the tranquil atmosphere wasn't polluted by any other soul. It was just him and Bakugou. Bakugou and him, breathing quietly next to each other, taking in the twinkling of the stars above them and feeling the unevenness of the sand beneath their backs.

"Whoa!" Kirishima whispered. "Did you see that? The shooting star?"

Bakugou grunted his affirmation just as, for the umpteenth time that day, a flutter of giddiness formed in Kirishima's stomach. While in the past he probably would've made a wish, just for fun, there wasn't a thing he could think of that he wanted right in that moment.

And just as that thought was forming, another white streak went across the sky, right above their heads. Right before he could say something, he saw another, this time longer and brighter, streaking straight down toward the water.

"Dude," he mumbled, watching it until it flickered and disappeared. "A meteor shower?" he mumbled, seeing yet another, not quite as bright but leaving a streak in its wake. His eyes flicked over to Bakugou, who hadn't so much as moved. "Did you plan this?"

"Just shut up and watch," Bakugou said.

Oh, he definitely planned it; Kirishima could tell by that aloof expression on his face.

"Katsuki..." Kirishima murmured, smiling as he sat up.

"What?" Bakugou asked, eyes following the other.

"You're the best."

"Hmph, whatever," he mumbled.

"Seriously. And you know it, too," Kirishima said, leaning toward him. "Thank you, man. This is the best."

"...don't go getting all cheesy on me," grumbled Bakugou.

"Then I'll just kiss you instead."

"Fine with me."

Kirishima let the kiss linger as long as he could, slow and steady, warm and damp, before Bakugou gently pushed up on his chest. "You're fuckin' missing the shower," he mumbled.

"Right, right," Kirishima chuckled. He spared one more peck to Bakugou's lips before he laid back down, this time using the other's stomach as a pillow with his hands folded across his own torso, getting comfortable to watch the stars fall around them.